The Operative
by TheImperius
Summary: Exchange fic! "When you were an operative, how did you know when you were in too deep?" "I didn't. Not until it was too late." A brief overview on the reason for Elizabeth's answer.


My fic for the exchange. The prompt was -

That bit in season 2 when Elizabeth and Henry are sitting in the window seat in their bedroom and Henry asks Elizabeth how she knew she was in too deep as an operative and she says she didn't until it was too late - what happened there? Like what situation/operation was she referring to?

* * *

Bathed in light from the street lamps as it streamed through the window, Henry listened to the argument of the Adams siblings that ensued downstairs. It sounded like the opposite of fly fishing. Sitting in the alcove of the master bedroom, it took some time for the voices to die down and the house to go quiet. It was over. He waited patiently, knowing she was coming. She would come to him. They had both had difficult days, and Henry needed her comfort tonight. Sure enough, she appeared in the doorway looking drained by the weight of the world. She kicked off her shoes and moved straight into his embrace, sinking into his chest.

As each let the presence of the other bring the comfort they desperately needed, Henry couldn't stop the thought that had plagued him all day. It was something he needed to know.

"When you were an operative…" He paused, hesitant as he searched for words that were hard to find, "how did you know when you were in too deep?" His chest ached with grief and just a hint of guilt. It was never his intention to play with the lives of others, but it had become that way in such a short space of time that he hadn't even realised. While his eye was on the bigger picture, trying to keep the goal in mind, someone had died. It wasn't Henry's fault. Rationally he knew this. Ivan must have known deep down what was coming to resort to such desperate measures. But Dimitri had been stuck in the middle and ultimately left high and dry by the establishment he had handed his life to. At least Henry could say he tried, and was probably the only one who had, but did he really try hard enough.

Elizabeth thought hard on his question. There was so much she couldn't say. Stories she wanted to tell him, but knew she couldn't. They stirred deep from the recesses she had locked away. One particular memory deep in the abyss reared its dragon like head and the recollection of it still stung. She tried to swallow it down. Its resurfacing physically pained her after being suppressed for so long. And with good reason. Ultimately they had gotten what they wanted, but the path leading to it was strewn with bodies.

"I didn't. Not until it was too late." The memory was trying to drag her mind back to that time, that room that had changed everything. She pulled Henry's arms around her tighter trying to keep the memories at bay. She couldn't remember where it started, or when she had made the decision that had affected so many. But the day the consequences of her actions came to a head she remembered so vividly and knew they would haunt her forever.

The war in Iraq had been a terrible time. Some many civilians caught in the crossfire, not to mention the other atrocities happening within the middle east that the western world never heard about. Elizabeth couldn't sleep at night knowing what was happening from the safety of her desk at Langley. It seemed so meaningless and she wanted nothing more than to stop it. Not for lack of trying. She had been heavily involved in undercover operations that had been happening in country for months.

Finally, after months of searching, they were hot on the trail. Safeer Al-Jamil was finally in their sights and Elizabeth had her eye on the prize. It felt like this was it. A way to fulfill her determination to actually do something. It had been a long, drawn out process. Looking for a terrorist from thousands of miles away was no easy task, but they were there and ready to take the next step. The goal within reach.

Agents moved into their positions for the setup in the old building. Someone was ready to talk. The lure of American money had finally paid off. In exchange for a ridiculous amount, someone was coming to give them exactly what they wanted. The location of Safeer Al-Jamil; the terrorist that had blown up half of Baghdad and killed more women and children that Elizabeth liked to think about.

Elizabeth couldn't remember exactly what transpired up to that point, it was all a bit of a blur after all those years. She watched the explosion on a monitor no bigger than a regular television, safe from her location in DC. But it felt like she was right there in the room. Rubble, smoke and fire flickered across the screen as the signal feed was interrupted by the blast. It knocked the wind clean out of her and sent her hurtling from the room.

Elizabeth made it into the restroom just in time to wretch into the porcelain.

It was her operation. They were her operatives. This was her fault. Her foundations had been shaken to the core.

These were people she knew. Colleagues she had worked with. They had families, children, parents. And just like that, they were gone. All in the name of the greater good. Elizabeth knew they hadn't been forced to go. They truly believed they were serving their country. But that didn't stop the horrible feeling of guilt that clenched her stomach like a vice.

Minutes passed as her mind raced. She couldn't bring herself to go back and face all those people. Conrad especially. She had made a mistake of epic proportions. She would face the consequences. For that, she was certain.

"Bess…" Isabelle called, pushing open the bathroom door to find Elizabeth leaning on the sink.

"I should have known that was going to happen. I shouldn't have sent them in." Her voice shook but her words were definite. The responsibility of the mission weighed heavy on them.

Isabelle let the door fall shut and approached Elizabeth cautiously. "There's no way you could have known that was going to happen." She placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "We were so close."

"We were so close, I overlooked the risks in exchange for the hope of intel! It was a stupid move!" Elizabeth cried with frustration.

"No it wasn't. You weren't the only one counting on this mission. We all were."

"Now they're dead and we're no closer to finding out where Safeer is."

"Hindsight can be a terrible thing, Bess. This wasn't your fault."

"Then whose is it?"

That had been the question that stayed with her for years. Henry had comforted her when she got home that night and cried in his arms. She could never tell Henry why. It was a matter of national security. But it didn't matter to him. He rocked her until the exhaustion of sobbing overwhelmed her body. The deaths of those agents wouldn't let her sleep for months.

That failed operation was the reason she was willing to place herself in the firing line from then on. She traveled to Iraq later to finally capture Safeer Al-Jamil. She was finally able to get him in a room in front of her and his lack of remorse repulsed her. He had committed so many acts of terror against not only the Americans in country, but also his own people that it created this overwhelming rage that only seemed to grow. From the agents they had lost to finally seeing the bodies of those children cradled in their mothers' arms had flicked a switch within her and Elizabeth had caved to a primal desire. Upon his refusal to answer her question, her need for a sick revenge overtook any instinct to never harm another human being. But she couldn't stay, knowing full well what the male soldiers would do.

Wanting to take the Station Chief position had stemmed from that failed operation, even though she vehemently denied it. She did want to make a difference, but no longer wanted to send other people in her place. Unfortunately, Henry had handed her an ultimatum. And she knew without a doubt whom she would pick. She grew to accept her decision. Her family flourished in that time and she realised she would have missed it all. Juliet had gone in her place, but in the end, Iraq ruined her.

Henry squeezed her waist gently, bringing her back to their room where the remnants of the argument with Will still lingered and all she could do was pray Henry would understand. He needed to forgive himself, which had taken her a long time to do. They had come along a twisted path and neither could have anticipated this was where they would end up. Not that either regretted it. They pledged their lives to serve their country and make the world a safer place for their children. That was the ultimate goal.

That didn't make living with the decisions they had made any easier. They were thoughts you could never get past, just memories you learned to live with. Elizabeth wondered when Henry had drawn the parallel to what she had spent the majority of her life doing. Maybe now he would finally understand what that was like. Living with your decisions every day, as hard and terrible as they may be. But that was the sacrifice they chose to make when they picked the path that lead them to here. The final objective never in sight, but moving one step closer every day.


End file.
